The Only Exception
by ame-ga-korobu
Summary: Autumn Deetz just wants to use the old house in Winter River to cure her writer's block and get the creative juices flowing again. Too bad a certain poltergeist keeps distracting her. So much for that best-selling novel. Rated T, but be warned this IS a lot of swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**The Only Exception**

_Enter the Writer Extraordinaire_

The bizarre white house sat dauntingly on top of the hill and Autumn Deetz regarded it calmly from behind the steering wheel of her station wagon. It was November 1st, _an ominous day for new beginnings_, she thought idly. Outside her car, a cold wind was howling, but she was in no real rush to get up the driveway at her new home-away-from-home and thus face it.

The Deetz family home had been sitting empty for a number of years now, vacated by the Deetzes shortly after young Lydia had graduated high school and returned to New York City to pursue her photography. Delia had never been particularly fond of the place or it's rural location and Charles was nearing loony bin territory after certain events had unfolded in their living room on terrifying night/

As a child, and cousin to enigmatic Lydia, she'd grown up with bedtime stories about Adam and Barbara Maitland, the nice ghost couple who owned the Winter River home before the Deetz. Their "sentence" was 125 years in the house, but they'd been give a free pass onto greener pastures and so had also vacated.

And it was all because of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Lydia was rather adamant about never saying the name of the poltergeist who featured as the villain in all of her tales to Autumn. To a child like Autumn though, he was a source of fascination. The stories themselves were certainly entertaining enough – she'd laughed hysterically as Lydia had tried to describe the lacy red monster he'd had the audacity to call a wedding dress for her almost-marriage to the creep.

As a child, of course, all of this had seemed to be the stuff of legend. A grand adventure. To an adult Autumn, she found it far less likely to believe that all those things had really happened. And so it was with very little fear or trepidation that she removed herself from the car and crunched the few steps up to the front door.

Autumn wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to happen when the door finally swung open, but the deathly silence that greeted her was not it. It unnerved her a bit to stand there in the doorway and hear not a sound – no creak of the door or groan of the floorboards under her. Old houses made noise, didn't they? This one was quiet, almost as it the house itself was holding its breath, watching, and waiting to see what she'd do.

_Well, I was never one for suspense_, she thought ruefully as her feet crossed the threshold . Shrugging off the feeling of calculating eyes following her, Autumn moved from room to room to inspect the layout and the amount of dust that would need to be removed before the house became liveable again.

The fireplace was eyed appreciatively, but the leftover furniture was decidedly threadbare and looked somewhat less than comfortable. The kitchen held promise though, as the plumbing still worked and the fridge was operational. To Autumn, a mug of pumpkin spice tea was an idea taking root in her mind, quickly. Everything was still out in the car though, so that would be task number one. Priorities, you know?

Despite her dutiful ignorance of it, there were indeed eyes following the movements of the strange newcomer. Electric green irises narrowed in contemplation – as far as he knew ol' Chuck hadn't sold the place and he'd been the sole occupant for years. Not that he was complaining about the sudden arrival of company though, he'd been by himself in here far too long. Perhaps now he could stretch his limbs and get the juice flowing again.

For the moment though, all he did was watch from any reflective surface he could find as she studiously moved all her stuff from the beat up old car and into the foyer of the home. She hauled in two suitcases obviously filled with enough clothing to last a month or more – this implied she meant to stick around a while. A few paper bags of groceries followed that and became her new priority as she hefted them straight away to the kitchen.

His eyes followed her as she did so and his presence seeping into the kitchen must not have escaped her notice because she still suddenly, her hand still hidden inside the bag. Her fingers had just brushed the tip of the box of tea when goosebumps erupted over her entire body and the electric tingle danced along her skin. Her dark red hair had spilled over her face, blocking her expression.

The air thickened. She could almost taste it. Something was here, something was about to - !

"_**Every night I burn, every night I call your name!...**_" She nearly jumped out of her skin as her ring tone began jamming inside her purse. Letting go of the box she'd nearly had a grip on, Autumn quickly dug out her phone and flipped it open.

"You scared the fucking crap out of me," she squeaked. Autumn ran a hand raggedly through her hair as the person on the other line laughed hysterically. "Dammit, Lydia..."

"I'm sorry...I was just wanted to make sure you made it there alright," the woman on the other end giggled. "What's got you so jumpy anyhow? I told you the place wasn't haunted anymore."

"It's a little too quiet compared to the city," Autumn replied uneasily. "I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually. Say, cuz', what's your opinion of Winter River anyways? I've only been here a few hours and I think it's got this creepy Stepford quality to it. Like the people here are robots. Or maybe aliens."

Again came that throaty chuckled. "I felt the same way when I was living there. It's not so bad though – the people are actually really nice. But I suppose it's not for everyone."

Autumn grinned. "Well...maybe I could channel all this into some kind of half-baked inspiration and churn out a horror novel this time around..."

"That's a great idea!" Lydia exclaimed. "You know I'd read it. I'd probably be first in line for an autograph at your book signing too."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Lyds. I haven't even written anything yet so there's no point in talking about publishers or book signings and the like. Listen, I've got a mad craving for a cup of tea so I'm gonna let you go and feed my addiction, okay?"

The two women hung up a few minutes later after saying their goodbyes and Autumn chucked her cellphone onto the table, to be charged and dealt with later. The tea was finally retrieved and after heating a cup of water in the microwave it was finally allowed to steep.

The aroma of pumpkin permeated the small space that was the kitchen and Autumn sank down into one of the table's chairs, letting out a sigh and allowing every muscle in her body to relax. The drive had been killer, nearly six hours, and she hoped the trip would be worth it. As she absently sipped her tea, her mind began to work things out. First, she would need to set up some kind of work space. The living room seemed cozy enough and it had plenty of room to fit a desk and her computer. The fireplace was definitely a bonus, as it was already getting cold and she'd probably be wintering it out there in the house.

Winter River, Connecticut was the most rural she'd ever willingly gone. No cars, no clubs, no crazy homeless people, no nagging editors, agents, or boyfriends. No distractions. That's what she told herself – no distractions. This was going to work. Her career depended on it.

Meanwhile, the specter who'd been lingering nearby was gazing at her through the sheen in the window and grinning wickedly. A relative of little Lydia Deetz, eh? And she was up here all alone in a house everyone believed wasn't haunted anymore. This could be fun. He'd keep an eye on her for a few days and let her settle in. Then, when she was good and relaxed...he'd start messing with her.

Finally, some entertainment.

If Autumn hadn't been so focused on the mental image of her new office space, she might have heard the echo of insane laughter ring throughout the house.

* * *

The first morning, after a shower with blessedly hot water and another cup of blissful tea, Autumn was ready to tackle cleaning the house. All the white sheets that had been tossed over the furniture were ripped away to reveal good old fashioned country decor. It wasn't really her thing, but it would do. No distractions, remember? The floor was swept, every nook and cranny was dusted, and with a little bit of finesse, she actually got a fire going.

Then she took a break.

"Well, that's room number one," she sighed to herself. "Now then...do I clean the kitchen first or attempt to cook in it and risk burning everything down?" With a slight grin, she sauntered over to the fridge in her sweat pants and tank top, lifting her hair up into a loose ponytail before perusing the contents of said fridge. She had stocked it up with some pretty basic items – eggs, milk, orange juice, some cheap chicken deli meat, and bread. There was cereal in the pantry, of course, along with some small cans of tomato sauce and noodles.

In the end she settled for some half-assed spaghetti. While the sauce (and some added spices) got to boiling on the stove, Autumn dusted off the shelves in the kitchen and wiped down the counters. When she reached the table, she paused. Something was off. Different.

Her phone was missing! She distinctly remembered tossing it on the table after her conversation with Lydia. Just to be sure though, she went back into the living room to check if she had perhaps taken it with her in there sometime during the day. It was nowhere to be found and as her charger was still in her purse, that obviously wasn't the solution either.

So where was it?

"Lemme guess," she muttered. "Fairies made off with it?"

It was an excuse her college roommate Kayla had always given for losing her car keys or misplacing important pieces of paper. Once, when Autumn's favorite pair of earrings had somehow wound up in Kayla's trunk, she blamed it on the fairies.

Normally, Autumn would have questioned her roommate's sanity, but Kayla was a devout pagan who claimed to work with the Fae. So maybe she knew what she was talking about after all. Still, outside of the college campus sphere, fairy trickery wasn't sitting well with her.

Suddenly she heard Robert Smith crooning from somewhere upstairs and understandably apprehensive she followed the sound up the stairs and around the banister. There it was, sitting on the floor just near the steps leading further up into the attic. The ring tone stopped just as she approached.

Autumn cast a wary gaze around before leaning over and picking the blasted thing up. No calls. So what then, the phone just decided to skip up the stairs and start serenading the empty second floor? No, something had moved it.

"I thought this house was empty," she called out to the air around her. Nothing. No response. Only that cold chill that had begun to regularly settle over her. Shaking her head, Autumn made her way downstairs. She was imaging things. She must have dropped it when she'd gone upstairs to sleep last night. And for that random Robert Smith crooning, well phone's malfunction don't they?

With that sufficiently explained away, she returned to the kitchen to finish up her spaghetti.

* * *

It was late into the evening when Autumn finally unpacked her laptop. As it turned out, the desk from the office upstairs was too heavy to move from the room, let alone down the stairs, so she instead opted for setting up shop at the kitchen table. It was only a temporary setup, she told herself, thinking longingly of the fire blazing over in the parlor. If she really felt tempted she could just curl up on the couch with the stupid PC and work that way.

"No," she breathed. "I have to give this professional thing a try. A table is only a step down from a desk. Deal with it."

The slender woman stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, feeling a few vertebrae pop as she did so. After cracking her knuckles, she opened up a new document and sighed. A blank page. So many opportunities. Anything could happen.

And there she sat. Pensively staring. For hours.

He had to admit, he was getting a little bored. All this blustery talk about being a best-selling author and all...but she hadn't even written a word. She was just staring at the stupid thing. After a few minutes more of this, she sighed and got up to fix herself a cup of coffee.

He heard her mutter under her breath, "This is gonna be a long night..."

_Need some help?_

With satisfaction, he watched as she jumped about a foot off the ground and spilled coffee beans onto the floor. She whirled around moments after, eyes searching the room and finding nothing. If she had thought to glance into the window, she might have had a glimpse of him. What would she do, he wondered. Freak out? Scream? Faint even?

Instead, she took a few calming breaths and scooped up the wayward coffee beans. Those were quickly deposited in the trash and new ones were retrieved to be ground. Once the caffeinated elixir of life was brewing softly, she returned to the table and sat once more in front of the glowing screen.

"Anything, you idiot," she mumbled. "Type anything."

She was about to lift her fingers to the keyboard. She needn't have bothered. The word "Anything." was neatly spelled out onto her document. Autumn let out a breathy gasp and pushed her chair away from the table.

She began pacing, something she only did when very agitated. "I'm losing my mind. Yup, there's no other reasonable conclusion. I'm going mad."

_Take me with ya?_

There it was again! That voice that wasn't really a voice. She wasn't hearing it in her mind per se, but it wasn't exactly in the room with her either. Perhaps that's what crazy sounded like...

"Are you real or am I imagining all of this?" she finally called out.

_Wouldn't you like to know?_ The voice sounded incredibly smug this time around and she knew it was nothing she'd be able to conjure.

"I didn't think this house was haunted. Lydia said the Maitlands vacated. You're obviously not them, so what are you doing here?"

_Lucky bastards_. Nothing for a moment and then, _Nowhere better to be at the moment. Figured I'd ghost around here a while. _

He was having a conversation! A real friggin' conversation. Granted, it was starting out as more of an interrogation, but you have to start somewhere right? And instead of tweaking out, this woman was just standing next to the coffee maker and trying to formulate some kind of response.

"Why here, then?" she ventured, a strange tone in her voice. It almost made him think twice about being honest.

_Good times, babe. Had some real laughs here a few years ago. _

Her eyes widened perceptibly and her voice rose an octave. "You! You're the poltergeist Lydia told me about. The one who shall not be named, am I right?"

_Uh...maybe._

The coffee had finished brewing. Absentmindedly, Autumn pulled a mug out of the cupboard and poured herself some. She looked blandly at the sugar dish on the counter. Her expression after a moment clearly read: Fuck it. She drank it straight.

The bitter liquid slid down her throat and revitalized her. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply a few times. She was having words with a ghost. Correction, she was having words with a poltergeist, the villain in all her childhood stories. Long night was about to become the understatement of the century.

_You gonna just stand there all night? _

"Maybe," she mumbled. Straightening up, "If someone has to say your name three times to summon you, how can we be talking like this right now?"

_Loopholes, babe. Gotta love 'em. I'm not really here anyways. _

"So...where are you?"

_Look behind ya._

Slowly Autumn turned around to face the counter. Her eyes scanned the area before gradually rising up to the window. The light glinted off it and for a moment she no longer saw herself reflected through the glass. It became a murky gray and shapes moved within it.

"Mirrors..." she breathed. She knew this from her own readings on the supernatural. Spirits could communicate through mirrors. Although, it really worked with any reflective surface, mirrors were the best conduit.

This at once thrilled and relieved her. Knowing he might have been watching her since she moved in unsettled her, but she also knew that he couldn't get out and harm her. Her mind wandered back to the story Lydia had once told about the snake that tried to kill Charles. This poltergeist and the snake were one in the same.

_You got it, babe. But hell, I gotta admit, it's pretty boring looking out from this side. How's about you say my name and we can chat, have a cup of coffee, and get to know each other. Eh?_

Oh, hell no. The thought sprang unbidden to her mind._ "You can never say his name, Autumn. He's too dangerous to be let out."_ Lydia's voice echoed in her mind. It also didn't escape her attention that she still didn't know what his name actually was.

Dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink, Autumn looked back up at the mirror, her gaze calculating. It was something that made him uneasy, though he would never admit it. But he could admit defeat since there was no way this was getting him anywhere tonight.

"This conversation is over," she quietly. "I'm going to bed. Don't bother me or I'll cover up all the mirrors in the house with spray paint."

_Oh, come on!_

But she was already powering down the computer and hitting the kitchen lights. He didn't follow her as she made her way up the stairs and into the room she'd claimed as hers. There were no mirrors in it anyways and he'd bet his bottom dollar she'd pull the curtains tight as she could.

Grumbling, he retreated and returned to his own place. He'd try again in the morning and maybe catch her half asleep and unaware. With that thought in mind, he grinned before settling into this own bed.

* * *

The time on her phone irritated when she rolled over the next morning, wide awake. Anything before noon just seemed unacceptable considering how long she'd lain awake that night. It was certain that she didn't sleep until well after midnight. And now the sun had barely risen above the horizon and she was already awake.

Had he watched her sleep? Was he in the room now? Paranoia wasn't going to get her anywhere though, so with a grunt she shoved the blankets off and retrieved a set of clean clothes from her suitcase. A shower would fix everything. Hot water and the smell of floral shampoo never failed to perk her up.

After at least twenty minutes of just standing under the hot spray, Autumn finally got to work lathering up and rinsing her hair then running her razor over her underarms and legs. Feeling clean and lively again, the knob on the shower head was turned and the hot pressure disappeared.

Her hand felt around for her towel and locating it, she wrapped it around her body before stepping out of the shower.

_Mornin', babes._

She looked up. Into the mirror. And turned white as a ghost.


	2. Chapter 2

The Only Exception

_Call it aftermath, she's turning blue_

A strange shiver crawled up Lydia's spine. She was just finishing up breakfast with her daughter and son when somewhere in her mind a shrill cry sounded. For a moment she was afraid she'd begin bleeding from her ears. That shiver slithered along her skin once more and she narrowed her eyes.

Beetlejuice.

* * *

For a moment, Autumn wasn't sure where the sound had come from. It took half a second to watch the creature reflected in her bathroom mirror, casually perched upon the counter top and peering at her, wince in discomfort and she knew then that she had screamed.

Everything else had happened in a blur. The towel rack was wrenched forcefully from the wall and collided with the glass at an alarming speed. To Autumn, it looked like fireworks raining down around her in slow motion. She observed, in a rather detached manner, that the specter was no longer in the mirror nor in the many fragments it had become.

Still, when sense returned to her, she pulled the towel closer around her form and nearly shrieked like a banshee, "Get the fuck out, you pervert!"

_Whoa. Women._

"I will break every goddamn mirror in the house if you do that again!" The cold energy that seemed to accompany the voice vacated the premises in a big hurry and when Autumn finally felt convinced she was alone, she quickly toweled off and got dressed.

During that brief moment of reprieve she was able to ponder exactly what it was she saw sitting in the mirror before it had shattered into the sharp fragments strewn around her. A wild mess of white blonde hair. Dark and sunken eyes. Decayed looking skin. Stripes. Good god, he wore stripes.

It was exactly as Lydia had described. The poltergeist looked incredibly insane.

Looking down at the broken glass littering the tile floor, Autumn contemplated whether she should just clean it up now and get it over with or make an attempt at breakfast first. Coffee would need to be imbibed first either way. With a roll of her eyes, she turned away and exited the bathroom.

The phone was already making it's presence known before she got down the stairs. A quick rush into the kitchen and a mad dash to get it unplugged from the charger rewarded her with Lydia's worried questions.

"Hey, I had a really strange feeling this morning and I wanted to call and see if you were alright," she gushed frantically. Autumn raised her eyebrows, debating whether to come clean about last night's events or save it for later. When she was preferably more awake and had time to think it over.

She ended up spilling. "I had a visitor last night. Although visitor may not be the right choice of words here. Seems he's kind of...residential."

"I don't follow," Lydia admitted.

Autumn pulled her still wet hair to one side and sighed. "Your poltergeist. He's still here."

She almost felt as well as heard Lydia's sharp intake of breath. "I knew it. You have to get out of there, Autumn. It's not safe."

Her mind wandered back up to the bathroom floor's contents. "You may be right, but not for the reasons you're thinking. I'm not worried, Lydia. I'll be fine. If he bothers me too much I'll just have him exorcised or something."

"This is no joke!" Lydia screeched. Autumn winced at her high pitch.

"I'm not joking," she protested. "Look, I can handle myself just fine. Besides...what can he possibly do? I don't know his name so I can't say it. And before you ask, I have no intention of doing so."

It took another twenty minutes to convince Lydia not to take any drastic measures like driving up to retrieve her or informing someone named Juno of the goings-on. After hanging up, Autumn dropped her head onto the table.

"Why did I bother waking up?" she asked herself. "I should just go back to bed and start again tomorrow."

_Well, that'd be no fun. We're just getting started, babe._

"This is madness!" Autumn screeched.

_I thought we cleared that up last night..._

"I need air. I'm outta here!" And with that, she was up from the table, slipping into her old combat boots, snatching her keys from the foyer and marching out into the cold November air with her coat trailing behind her.

The house seemed really quiet after that and it unsettled him.

* * *

The air was cold, but Autumn barely felt it. She'd shrugged into her wool pea-coat and stuffed her fingers into the mittens that were hanging out inside the pockets, that was good enough in her book. Still, the gloom above threatened snow and that would need to be taken into consideration later.

She trudged down the hill and towards the town proper. She passed through the little red bridge that Lydia told her the Maitland's had driven their car off of. It was where they died, trapped in there little car upside down in the river. She paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of solitude. The roof over her head echoed the raging wind outside and swept through the small tunnel, biting at her cheeks and ears.

The water was almost frozen at this time of year. She could only imagine how much it would hurt to fall in at that moment. However, Autumn had no death wish and so she continued on her little trek through the town.

She passed by the church, with the graveyard that the Maitland's, of course, were buried in, before trailing on over to what used to be Adam's hardware store and the barber shop that still stood next to it. What a funny thing, she thought. You just couldn't find a legitimate barber shop anywhere in the city. Everything was a salon, or the cheaper equivalent. This, this little slice of old school, was a men's joint.

Feeling a little put out just standing there, Autumn shrugged off the cold and headed for the most promising little enclave yet. A diner and a coffee shop all rolled into one. It had always been a guilty pleasure of Autumn's to escape the confines of her father's upscale home in the city and settle into a vinyl booth at a dingy diner somewhere downtown.

That Winter River could offer her that same small comfort put a grin on her otherwise unreadable visage. She entered the small diner, all thoughts of annoying poltergeists fleeing from her mind as she sat down at a booth facing the street.

The waitress was a woman in her mid-forties named Susan who snapped her gum like no tomorrow. She cheerfully supplied Autumn with a mug of steaming hot java and even a dish of cream when asked. Sitting back with her coffee, Autumn let out a breath and all the tension she'd been holding in. After her first sip of the black liquid, the rest of it slipped away.

"This is exactly what I needed," she sighed. And as she sat there, mulling things over in her mind her eyes lit up. Snatching a napkin and snagging one of Susan's pens she began scribbling furiously over her makeshift notepad. Once a good chunk of the front and back had been covered with furtive black markings, she sat back once more with a smile gracing her face.

"Yup," she chuckled. "Exactly what I needed."

* * *

The fire roared to life as Autumn stepped back into the house, cheeks rosy from outside and flushed from her quick jaunt back up the hill. She shrugged off her coat and made a beeline for the kitchen, powering up her laptop and reverently setting a scribbled on piece of napkin next to it.

He grumbled to himself. Waste of a fire, then. But his frown reversed when she turned to the coffee maker and stumbled to a stop in surprise. "The fuck...?"

_Well, if you really want to, babes._

She let out a sigh and shook her head. "I can't believe I forgot you were here. That's how amazing my morning has been."

Nonetheless, she retrieved herself a mug and poured a cup of already make coffee. He couldn't have known she'd been sipping on the same juice for the last three hours, but even if he had...well, she'd probably be grateful if for nothing more than the opportunity to put more heat into her chilled form.

_You cut me to the quick, toots. And here I've been waiting for ya._

"Waiting for what, exactly?" Autumn paused in front of the computer and took a few sips of the dark brew.

This was crucial. He was gonna have to strike a deal here, and one that might not favor him in the beginning. But it would all be worth it in the end, if he could manage to get out. He would have to play nice.

_I'm gonna help you write that best-seller._

She nearly snorted out her coffee with the little chuckle the emitted from her small frame. "You? Help me? Right..."

_Hey, if you want a real spooky horror novel, I'm your guy. I got all the digs, you know? Come on, you can even write about me if you want._

"Aside from the fact that I'd have to put a name to your annoying presence," Autumn drawled. "I'm actually not interested in writing horror this time around. I've got my own ideas, thank you very much."

He sulked right there in the kitchen with her for the rest of afternoon, watching absently as she clacked away at her keyboard, pausing every now and then to delete something or change a word. She went through the entire pot of coffee and paused when she reached the end of it.

"Christ, I haven't even eaten anything yet," she muttered. "And since I am absolutely not predisposed towards cooking today, takeout is on the menu. Chinese...?"

He wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or to him, so he wisely kept his trap shut. She ended up settling on Chinese food; the call took less than a few minutes – she rattled off the names of her favorite dishes with the ease of someone who lived on that junk. It was simultaneously impressive and pathetic.

When it arrived, she paid the teen delivery boy in cash with a small tip and sent him on his way. The bag of aromatic contents was placed on the counter. Autumn dug around until she pulled out a carton of white rice, one of spicy chicken, some vegetables, and a small dish of egg drop soup. She didn't even bother with plates, sitting down right there at the counter and digging in with a clean fork.

That stuff any good?

She paused mid bite and glanced around the room before settling on the murky looking window. After swallowing, she managed a sly grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

_Yeah. So, uh, let me out?_

She put her food down and took a deep breath. "Gods, I know I'm gonna regret this, but how exactly would I go about doing that? I still don't know your name and I doubt I can coax it out of my paranoid cousin."

Yes, that was the root of the problem wasn't it. He certainly couldn't just tell her what it was and the charade trick had been pulled. Star coordinates were too complicated...

Or were they?

Focusing all his juice onto the dish of rice sitting in front of him, he lifted a handful of white grains out and let them hover in the air, making sure he had her attention. Boy, did he have her attention. With a feral grin, he carefully place each grain onto the table, effectively drawing a star constellation. Good thing he bothered to learn about that stuff while he was hanging around Juno's office back in the day.

_Guess which one I am, babes._

She slid off the counter and strode carefully over to the arrangement on the table. Autumn peered down at what looked like a very familiar shape, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. With narrowed eyes, she mapped them out.

"This is Orion, isn't it?" she asked tentatively. The tension in the room thickened and the air nearly crackled with electricity. "So...if you're **one **of these, you're named after a star. Shit."

_Shit? What? Can't you look it up on that thing over there?_ He wrapped loudly on the back of her laptop.

"No internet, genius," she mumbled. "Although...maybe there's a book up in the study that could help. Gods know what's still hanging out up there. Charles certainly wouldn't bother with that kind of stuff but Adam sounded geeky enough."

She was halfway up the stairs by the time she finished muttering. Beetlejuice was hot on her heels, hoping against hope that Adam had indeed been nerdy enough to think stars were cool. They entered the dusty study together, and both began perusing bookshelves.

He found it first, a small book on star-gazing. With a whoop of joy, he chucked it at Autumn. It smacked her in the back of the head and she let out a little shriek before whirling around and taking stock of it. Grinning, she picked it up and start flipping through it.

"Alright, hopefully this works out," she sing-songed on her way back down to the kitchen. He was getting REALLY impatient now.

_Come on, what does it say? Orion even in there?_

"I'm looking, calm down..." She practically tripped down the stairs scanning the pages, so she gave up and settled for roving over the index once she was back at the kitchen table. Constellations → Orion → Belt/Stars → "Aha! Now, which one were you again...?"

Oh it was happening, he could** feel** it. His juice reached out and zapped the grain of rice that was acting as the left shoulder of Orion. She'd figure it out, no problem. This one was proactive and smart.

"Betelgeuse?"

Her pronunciation was spot on, too! Oh man, he'd kiss her when he got out.

"I'm right, aren't I? Your name is Betelgeuse."

_Third time's the charm, babe. Come on, and I'll rock your world._

* * *

Author's Note: I don't usually post these things. They seem kind of pointless. However, I want to make some clarifications here. This is clearly taking place in modern day Winter River, hence the use of cell phones and laptops. Lydia is all grown up and spouting morbid little offspring of her own. Beetlejuice is his usual self. It's all great, no?

I did in fact catch the few typos in the first chapter and I intend to fix them at some point. There are probably a few here as well. But since this is a Nanowrimo challenge, my main concern is actually getting all the words out in a timely fashion. So here's CHAPTER TWO! Enjoy! ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

The Only Exception

_Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.- Lovecraft_

It was barely hanging on her tongue. She was going to say it and she knew it. It's all about the story, she kept telling herself. _This would make for an excellent story some day. I've already got the prequel, after all..._

Or maybe it was a curiosity thing. Perhaps once upon a time, she'd lived as a cat and simply never learned her lesson.

Either way, the name Betelgeuse was already on it's way out of her mouth and as soon as it was, her eyes scrunched shut and she waited. There were no big light shows, no rolling thunder, no overt display of power. He was just standing there, in all of his undead glory. Same unruly hair, same dark eyes, and those same godawful stripes. A lit cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, which was fixed into a knowing smirk. His feet were furnished with a nice pair of old army combat boots.

For her part, she did not scream. She did not gasp and she did not run for her life. Autumn merely stood there, looking at him while he looked at her. He watched her taking in his appearance the way a tailor would assess his newest customer. Sizing him up. He flicked his cigarette away, where it dissolved into thin air, and took a step closer to her.

She didn't back up, but her eyes said it all. Come no closer.

"You know...," he drawled. "You know my name now, but I don't think I heard yours." Betelgeuse leaned forward expectantly.

"Autumn..." it came out breathy, like a heroine in some cheesy romance novel and she could have kicked herself. "Autumn Deetz."

"Well, well, well!" he grinned. "If it isn't the newest little Miss Deetz. Autumn, hmmm? After the season?"

She nodded. "Mom was a fashion photographer. It was her favorite season to shoot in, so she named me after it." Did he need to know that? Seriously, did she need to say that?

"Fascinating story," he nodded. His eyes strayed to the cartons of food going cold over on the counter. He sauntered over to them and snickered when Autumn skipped around him to stay as far back as possible. Picking up a carton of food, chicken, he grabbed her chopsticks and shoveled some into his mouth.

"That's mine," she said pointedly. He merely raised his eyebrows at her, chewing obnoxiously. "Never mind, you can have the rest of it. I've suddenly lost my appetite."

He finished off the remainder of her food while she sat down in one of the table's many chairs, watching him. The arranged pieces of rice were still sitting on the table and she absentmindedly plucked at them.

"So.." she began. "How come you wanted out so bad anyways?"

"No fun over there, babes," was the reply.

She scowled. "What makes you think it's any better over on this side?"

He tossed a lecherous look her direction. "I'm looking at it."

And that, was just gross. To Autumn he looked like he'd died of some horrible infectious disease, been buried, crawled back up, hit by a dump truck, and then left to rot in a sewer before falling into a microwave. In simpler words, not pretty.

But his eyes were a rather brilliant shade of green. His features might have once been described as elfin. A good shower and a proper comb might be able to sort out a good chunk of what was going on there...

_Stop!_ She mentally scolded herself. _You are not checking out a dead guy. You're not that desperate. What would Craig think?_

Craig, her boyfriend of one year who kept pressuring her to get married and move in with him. Craig, who was so adamant that she get out of her funk and start writing again. Craig, the reason she was really out here in the first place.

Autumn shook her slightly. "So, you're here for the girls then? No single ladies on the other side?"

Betelgeuse scoffed. "They just don't appreciate my charms over there. Besides, I'm too good for all that creepy dead stuff, you know?"

"Right..." she breathed. He tossed the empty food carton back onto the counter and started rummaging around the kitchen. He opened up the pantry doors and snorted at it's near empty state. Then he moved onto the fridge and actually groaned aloud.

"Don't you got any beer in this joint?" he grumbled.

"Oh, my apologies," Autumn jeered. "But I'm not exactly well suited to entertain guests right now. I DID figure on being up here alone."

"Boy did you figure wrong, huh?"

"You're a pig," she declared.

He fired right back, "Twit."

"Louse."

"Nutter."

"Me?" She scoffed. He grinned back at her.

"Well, you're the one talking to a dead guy aren't you?"

"Not for long," she mused. "Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse."

A long snarl emitted before the undead creature faded into nothing.

_That was low._

"Get over it," she muttered before grabbing her laptop off the table and leaving the kitchen. He remained there, gazing through the window's reflection at an empty room and vowing some form of revenge on that red-headed twerp.

* * *

Autumn was very surprised the next morning when she came downstairs to find that all the furniture was attached to the ceiling. "Very funny," she remarked. Her amusement died the moment she found the coffee pot smashed to pieces in the sink.

Grumbling under her breath, she stomped her way back upstairs and into her bedroom. This was not going to be a lie-around-in-pj's kind of day, oh no. He'd surely ruined that. Autumn shucked her bat print pj pants in favor of a slim fitting pair of black trousers, a chunky purple sweater and a pair of platform boots. Her hair was twisted up into a loose swirl and clipped in place with a black glittery spider brooch.

A swipe of mascara and some lip balm finished off her look. She grabbed her keys and purse before heading down the stairs. The cold chill and disembodied voice made her pause.

_Leaving so soon? The game's just started, babe. Don't tell me you're running out on me!_

"Well you ruined my coffee maker so unless you want me to exorcise your decrepit ass..." here she paused for effect. "you'd better fix everything before I get back."

Suppressing a grin, she sashayed her way out the door and into her car.

_I'm gonna get her, I swear it._

Instead, Betelgeuse set to righting the mess he made before sulking off to some dark corner of his lair to come up with new ways to piss her off.

* * *

The diner was slowly picking up in traffic as the morning wore on. Susan was busy rushing from one table to the next. Autumn had her laptop out, coffee in hand, and continued to work on her character profile. The napkin she'd hastily scribbled on last time had disappeared somewhere and she wasn't about to go back to the house just to find it.

Instead, she closed her eyes and thought back to last night. Striking green eyes. A voice as gritty as sand, though not entirely unpleasant. A shock of wild hair, mad scientist style. These were already the makings of a really interesting character for Autumn. Granted, she was not casting Betelgeuse as a poltergeist in her new novel – he was definitely being tamed down. And renamed, she thought absently.

If he knew she was basing a character around him, he'd be one smug little git. Best to make sure he never saw any of her writings...

"Here's your order, dear," Susan stopped by the table with a round black tray. Removed from it was a plate of scrambled eggs and two buttermilk pancakes.

"Thanks a lot," Autumn praised. "I'm starving."

Susan gave her a beaming smile before moving on. Autumn continued to watch her for a while, amidst absentmindedly pouring syrup onto her pancakes and forking eggs into her mouth. Susan seemed like a lonely woman who had long given up on waiting for her ship to come in. She maintained a cheerful disposition at work and was probably a really good person all the way around, but still...there was a sadness there. Loneliness.

Some might say that Autumn was over-analyzing the situation. And maybe she was, but as a writer that's where the best stories and characters emerged. One just had to dig a little deeper...

She set aside her plate and quickly pulled her laptop back in front of her. The keys clacked loudly as another character was sketched out – a young waitress looking for freedom and adventure. A woman thinking her options had passed her by.

If only some mysterious stranger would be swept into her life...

Autumn cackled madly. Take that, writer's block!

* * *

When she finally did come back, well into the afternoon and carrying a bag of groceries, he remained quiet and watched her. Bags of vegetables came out and were tossed into the fridge. Health nut. Oh look, more tea. Different flavors this time around though. And then...no way.

Autumn pulled out a six pack of beer and reverently placed it on the top shelf in the fridge. Suddenly he was feeling a bit nervous about all the surprises he'd left for her upstairs. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

Still, with great trepidation he watched as she ascended the staircase and opened her bedroom door.

"The fuck is this...!"

* * *

Author's Note: This one is a bit shorter than the rest and not nearly as good. I apologize, I've got the flu right now so working on this is tedious at best. If any of you have some awesome ideas for Betelgeuse to use as nasty pranks for Autumn, I'd love to hear them. As it stands...I really have no clue what she's gonna find in her bedroom in the next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**The Only Exception**

"You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you." -Eric Hoffer

Pink curtains. Ruffly pink curtains were the first thing to assault her senses. The next was the pink and white flowered duvet on her bed. The pink nightstand. A pink carpet. White walls with pink trim. Pink. So much pink.

"Betelgeuse!"

_Strike one._

**Squeak!** What the heck? Autumn ducked back out her newly refurbished room and glanced down the hallway. What on earth was that noise, she murmured to herself and she slowly made her way down to the office. **Squeak! **There it was again!

Hesitating only a moment, she flung the door open and was assaulted (again!) by books. But not just any books. These books had grown wings and were flapping wildly around the room. All of the books. As soon as Autumn opened the door, they made a beeline for freedom.

With a little shriek of "Betelgeuse!" she ran for the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Panting, she closed her eyes and listened as the books took off throughout the house, some of them slamming up against the door in their haste to escape.

_Strike two._

After a moment, they all thumped to the ground. Then it was quiet. Autumn was about to breath a sigh of relief when a gentle hissing noise reached her ears. She opened her eyes and glanced around the bathroom. "What now?"

The shower curtain was closed. She hadn't remembered doing that after her shower. The hiss sounded again, no doubt from the bathtub. Slowly, Autumn crept closer, each footfall coming slow and slower. Slender and pale fingers reached out to hesitantly grasp the white curtain before violently shoving it aside.

Snakes. A whole horde of snakes were writhing together in the bathtub. It was nearly brimming with them, all manner of different colors and sizes. A particularly colorful snake lifted it's head at Autumn and stuck it's tongue out at her.

Again, she didn't scream. Or faint. Or run for her life. Instead, Autumn turned calmly, white as a sheet, and left the bathroom. Outside in the hallway, she slumped down at the top of the stairs and put her head in her hands.

"Just breathe," she told herself. "He's just messing with you, so breathe and keep calm."

He hadn't been sure how she'd react to his prefab tricks, but grudgingly he was impressed. The pink room was a joke. This girl was about as dark as little Lydia was, so that was a minor jab. Poking fun, really.

The bat books, he thought she'd at least get a kick out of that. He hadn't really anticipated on them attacking her, but she was quick enough to get out of harm's way.

Now the snakes...those were meant to scare. A deal breaker. A little revenge for setting him back so soon the night before. Betelgeuse had hoped she wouldn't find them right away. After seeing that lovely six-pack now hanging out in the fridge and chilling, he'd had every intention of whisking the scary away and seeing if she'd let him out again to chat.

_Hey, babes. Not a fan of the creepy-crawlies huh?_

"I like snakes just fine, thank you!" she snapped, lifting her head and glaring at the closest picture frame, which happened to be where he was looking out from. "But when there's a pile of them in my bathtub...that's crossing a line! And here, I was gonna offer a truce for tonight. Screw that..."

_Oh come on, I wasn't really gonna hurt ya or anything. I was just p.o.'ed cause you sent me back so quick last night. That's all, really!_

"Fuck you," she muttered under her breath. Her phone rang then and she quickly fished it out of her pocket "What?!"

A couple of seconds later and a breathy apology to Charles, who was on the other end.

"Yes, uncle. The house is great, thank you so much for letting me crash here. It could use a little cleansing" she directed a sneer to the photo frame "but other than that it's great."

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it up there," Charles said. "Just make sure you get out and do things while you're there. Sitting around an empty house can't be good for anyone, except maybe me."

She laughed and a couple of minutes later ended the conversation. With a snap, she flipped the phone shut and stood up. "I'm so tired. I don't wanna argue, fight, or deal with anything right now. So I'm just going to order pizza and spend the rest of the day with some horror films. Don't bother me."

He thought about apologizing. But that just wasn't his style. And besides, she was being a bitch! He gave her a perfectly logical reason for his actions and she blew it off. Women. To hell with 'em all.

* * *

It was early the next morning when the doorbell sounded. Two pizza boxes were strewn across the kitchen table, plates of uneaten pieces graced the coffee table, and a few bottles of beer rested at the foot of the couch, where the heroine of this story now slept. The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time, and Autumn lifted her head to glare blearily in the direction of the door.

"I'm coming, hold your horses," she mumbled as she pulled herself up off the couch. The throw blanket that had been covering her slim frame fell to the floor in the process, knocking over one empty bottle. The doorbell managed to ring one more time before Autumn reached the door, straightened her sweater, and finally wrenched it open.

"Oh! Good morning, I hope I'm not too early," a woman with ginger blond hair and lots of freckles greeted cheerfully.

"No," Autumn grumbled. "I suppose not seeing as I'm awake now."

The woman smiled. "You know, I was a little surprised to see movement up here again. I guess I thought maybe Charles was coming back to finally clean the place up."

"Why would Charles be up here to clean?" she blinked stupidly at this cheerful lady standing on the front porch.

"Oh to sell the place, of course!" the lady laughed. "Forgive me, I'm Karen Butterfield. I'm the local real estate agent in these parts."

"That's nice," Autumn deadpanned. "But I don't think Charles is looking to sell just yet. He's letting me use this place for my writing." Oh man, was she itching for a cup of coffee. Maybe a shower – her mind flashed back to the snakes from yesterday – maybe not then, but definitely coffee. This woman was still standing there, smiling like an idiot and Autumn's mood was growing darker and darker by the second.

Karen's grin grew wider, if possible. "Oh a writer? That's so very interesting. What are you writing about?"

"I don't disclose that kind of information while in the writing process," Autumn replied as politely as she possibly could. "Now, it's very early and I haven't had my coffee yet. So if you don't mind..."

"Oh, of course!" Karen fluttered as though she hadn't realized it was just after sun-up. "Well, if you need anything at all while you're in town, here's my card. Don't hesitate to call!" And with that she took her leave. Using all of her human resolve, Autumn quietly shut the door.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure that woman was really gone before letting loose a string of cuss words. "My god, what an idiot. Who comes calling on a stranger so early in the morning, anyhow?"

_Mormons?_

"Ugh, I had hoped you were still sleeping..."

_After that racket? Yeah, right._

He watched her stumble into the kitchen and stare stupidly at the coffee maker, which was already brewing her daily energy. Frankly, he didn't understand what she saw in the stuff, it smelled horrible. But she did respond more favorably after having consumed it, so today it was in his best interest to keep her sated. He was getting out again today, no matter what.

_You know babes, I got a really good idea. If you let me out I know exactly how to keep her from coming back._

"I don't need any strange rumors flying around about either me or this house. I already get enough people asking if this place is haunted or if I've had any weird experiences here. How the hell do I diffuse that if you're actively making shit worse?" was her comeback.

_No, no, you gotta trust me. I'll just slip into her bedroom tonight and scare her real good. She'll either check herself into a funny farm or get an exorcism._

Autumn fixed herself a cup of coffee and slumped down into a chair. "She may be annoying, but not enough for me to want her permanently messed up. So just chill out, poltergeist."

_You gotta work with me here, babes. If you want something done, I'm your guy. I can do just about anything._

"Except shut up," she retorted, but there was a smile playing around her lips nonetheless. "So tell me, why did you try to marry my cousin all those years ago? Would that really have gotten you out for good?"

_Well, uh, those are the rules...I think._

"You think!" she cried. "You mean, you don't even know?"

_Works everywhere else, don't it?_

"Is such a thing even legally recognized, I wonder..." she murmured into her cup. "I mean, gay marriage is still illegal in most parts of the world, and it's wrong to marry an animal. I would reckon marrying a dead person would be equally taboo."

_What do you say we give a try and see what happens then?_

"You're disgusting," she grinned. "And no thanks."

_Anytime you change your mind, babe. I'm the most eligible bachelor in town, after all. _

Sure he was. Autumn finished up her coffee in peace before heading upstairs to put on clean clothes. Then she packed up her laptop and took off for the diner.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Only Exception**

"_I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."__―__Edgar Allan Poe_

"Betelgeuse."

He cracked open an eye.

"Betelgeuse."

Whoa now, what was this?

"Betelgeuse!"

He rolled out of bed...and onto the hardwood floor of the Deetz house living room. "A warning would be helpful, babes."

She was sitting on the chair near the fireplace, wrapped in an old afghan and sipping something that was steaming from a mug. It wasn't coffee, he could smell that much. Hot chocolate?

Betelgeuse pulled himself to his feet and righted his tie. He glanced around awkwardly before deciding to settle into the couch across from her. "So, what's the occasion, babe?"

She stared down at her cup, hair falling to frame her face. "No reason, really. Just felt like chatting, is all." She didn't have to justify herself to him. She'd spent nearly the entire day slaving over her laptop and nailing down what she'd finally started writing. The character profiles were finished and she was setting up a plot outline. So sue her for only having a glowing screen as company most of the day. She'd never admit it to his face, but she'd gotten a bit lonely and Betelgeuse was a last resort, but a resort nonetheless.

"Chatting?" he scoffed. "Now you want to chat?"

"I'd like to call a truce," she spoke up, lifting her head. "For real this time. Seeing as we're both stuck here together for awhile we might as well get along."

He grinned. "How _well_ do you wanna get along?"

She grimaced. "You're gonna have to work on that pervert stuff. This girl does not appreciate 'your charms' one bit."

"Can't turn off the juice babes. No can do."

"If you want out more often, you'll find a way," she told him. It was amusing to watch his face slacken in confusion, then see his eyes widen in surprise and finally narrow in suspicion. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What do you mean, more often?" he asked lowly.

"Exactly that," she retorted. "You behave and keep your hands to yourself, and I'll say the B-words every now and then."

Betelgeuse leveled with her now. "You're gonna have to be a bit more specific or I'm not agreeing to anything."

Autumn set her feet down onto the floor and threw back the last of the liquid in her cup before answering him. "When I'm around and not frightfully busy, I'll let you out to wander around and do...whatever," when she saw him about to speak, she clarified. "within the confines of the house!"

"What?!" he cried. "What if I wanna go outside and take a walk?"

She scoffed loudly, "Take a walk? Please...you mean terrorize all of Winter River."

Betelgeuse settled back more comfortably into the couch, shifting the cushions around a bit. It wasn't as hard and bulky as it looked. Guess the Maitland's had decent taste when it came to picking up furniture. He looked back up at the girl in front of him, grinning.

"Come on, you don't like 'em any more than I do."

She grinned. "They're growing on me, actually. I've gotten quite fond of this little diner downtown. Haven't checked out the mini-mall yet though."

"They got a mall these days?" he interjected. "See, I need to get out more."

"And I need a beer, if I'm gonna deal with you any longer," she grinned. "Want one?"

He matched her grin and rose from the couch to follow her into the kitchen.

* * *

She'd spent a good portion of the evening grilling him on events from the past that he really didn't feel like talking about. However, he was out and they were comfortably settled in the living room.

Her hair had come undone sometime throughout the afternoon and her cheeks were tinted red from all her drinking. She was giggly and loose, so he decided maybe now was a good time to make his move. He slid closer to her and casually slung an arm around her shoulders.

"And then I zapped round boy into a really snazzy pastel suit. Looked good on 'im," Betelgeuse sneered, fondly recalling those last few enjoyable moments before the sandworm chowed down on his moldy ass.

"I only met Otho once," she admitted, making a mental note to remove Betelgeuse's arm from around her person as soon as her body would cooperate. Instead, she found herself taking another swig of beer. She felt woozy and light-headed. She also knew that Betelgeuse was way too close for comfort. "I didn't really like him."

"Yeah," the poltergeist agreed. "He was no fun, didn't stick around for the wedding. Schmuck."

"Did you really even like my cousin?" Autumn wondered aloud. "Or was it just a spur of the moment decision on your part?"

"Jealous, babes?" he quirked an eyebrow at her.

She pushed herself up and away from him. "Of course not! Like I'd want to marry someone...something like...like...you!"

He drew on the most hurt expression he could muster and clutched at where his still heart sat in his chest. "That hurts, babe. I ain't all bad!"

Autumn focused on him once more and really looked. His eyes were extremely green, they almost mesmerizing. The more she looked, the greener they became. For his part, Betelgeuse was rather confounded. The woman was just staring at him and he was having a hard time looking away. And what was with that look on her face?

"No," she smiled then. "You're not all bad." And then she passed out. He sighed. Now what should he do? His sole source of entertainment these days was lying despondently against the couch. He scooted to the edge of the cushion and drummed his fingers on his knee. Well, that was strange.

"S'pose I could poke around in her underwear drawer," he chuckled. He pulled a lit cigarette out of thin air and puffed away at it, anticipating the hour she'd finally wake back up. He wasn't supposed to leave the house or anything...

Wait a blasted minute? He'd never really agreed to anything, had he? And now she was down the count and he was still out, wasn't he? Well damned if this bored stiff (pardon the pun) poltergeist couldn't go anywhere or do anything he pleased. No one could stop him. She was the only one who knew his name around these parts and she was in no position to start spouting it either.

He glanced pensively at his unexpected "keeper". What she didn't know..., as the saying went. With renewed vigor, he sprang up and strode to the door. Betelgeuse could easily phase right into the heart of town and beyond if he wanted, but this was his first unchaperoned outing in a long time and he felt the need to stretch his ghostly legs. So he quietly strolled through Winter River, comparing Adam's model in the attic with the real deal. It seemed that a lot had changed in the past decade or so.

No house of ill-repute though. That was a bummer. He'd been a bit tense lately and could sure use a release. His keeper was nigh unresponsive to his advances, wise to his tricks as she was. Still...

His gaze wandered over to Sally's 24/7 Diner and he flicked the cigarette away. The smoldering ash fizzled out as a booted foot crunched over it. So this was Autumn's little hangout, was it? Maybe he could spook some of the after-hours crew. She'd be pissed if she found out, he cackled darkly. How to do it though – possession? Light tricks? Snakes? Well, couldn't hurt to stroll in and take stock of the place, at least.

The little bell overheard jangled as he opened the door. The place was dimly lit and all of the red vinyl booths were broken or tattered. A dusty jukebox sat in the corner near the restrooms and a bunch of teenagers commandeered the bar stools. Perfect.

Betelgeuse slid into a booth near the door (good view of the joint!) and waved an exhausted looking waitress over.

"What can I get you?" she stifled a yawn.

Just coffee, Susan dear," he drawled, sparing a look at her name tag. "You look like you could use some."

She glanced over her shoulder at the rowdy group of youths. "No kidding."

"Don't like kids much, huh?" he started fiddling with the napkin dispenser. "I don't care for 'em myself, really. Too much trouble."

Susan smiled. "Got any of your own?"

"Ha, no way babes," Betelgeuse guffawed. "M'not exactly the family type, you know what I mean?"

She nodded. "Yes, I know what you mean. I'll be right back with that coffee."

He sat back, toying with a piece of paper in his pocket. Well, it wasn't paper so much as a scribbled on napkin. He'd filched it the first night she let him out and she never even noticed it was gone. What a great distraction he was turning out to be!

Anyways, the napkin contained the bare components of a story plot and some rough character outlines, one of which he easily recognized as Susan – a haggard waitress waiting for life to happen. The other one made him furrow his brow – a mysterious and crude creature who makes an appearance before the waitress and whisks her away into some crazy adventure. Certainly she hadn't been thinking of him and there's no way she could have known he'd make his way here. It had to be a coincidence, of course.

Still, his eyes slid in the direction of the approaching Susan, who was skirting the group of teens anxiously. He had no plans regarding this woman or her life. If there was anyone in this lazy town who warranted a Betelgeuse styled adventure, it was the slumbering form in the house on the hill.

"Thanks, Susan," he smirked as she gingerly set the coffee down before him.

"No problem," she yawned again and meandered back into the kitchen. Well, it wasn't an adventure but the juices were flowing freely and he was itching to let loose.

With barely a twitch of his fingers, the light-bulb in the fixture hanging above the kids exploded. Two of the girls yelped and one of the boys cursed. It was a start. Next came the spiders, big hairy ones crawling out from under plates and behind classes. Oh, there was screaming now. Betelgeuse leaned back into the booth, smiling openly now and exposing his gnarly teeth.

The youngsters made to flee but as soon as they set foot on the tile floor, snakes slithered over them. It only took a few more seconds and some fancy footwork before the bell jangled once more. Susan stood at the kitchen's threshold, gaping at him. He winked before disappearing into thin air, leaving all the teenager's wallets behind on the table.

Don't say he never did nothing for nobody.

* * *

The sun was coming up over the horizon when he finally reached the top of the hill. He stood on the porch and watched it for a while, another cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. The sun's ray were probably warm in the chilled air of late November, but he couldn't feel it. He didn't even really notice the cold either or the fact that snow flakes were starting to swirl around him.

He didn't even notice that Autumn had joined him on the porch, clad in only a pair of jeans and a long black cardigan, until she spoke. "It's snowing."

Betelgeuse didn't want to admit that she'd surprised him, but he did jump a bit. Startled, that was the word. He looked down at her, the way the morning sun lit up her porcelain skin and reflected in her dark eyes. He wasn't sappy or poetic, but she looked beautiful to him in that moment. Almost inhuman.

And then she turned to look up at him and he was doomed. He couldn't help himself. Betelgeuse spit his cigarette away and kissed her.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Only Exception**

_Death is a friend of ours; and he that is not ready to entertain him is not at home. - Sir Francis Bacon_

_Whack! _

"Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!"

His head spun violently and he had to reach up with his hands to stop it. After a brief feeling of intense vertigo, he realized what had just happened. She'd slapped him and sent him back. He was standing back in front of the mirror he'd so carefully smuggled into his place long ago.

He exhaled loudly, even though he didn't need to. "Fuck."

Line Break!

"Oh my gods," she moaned, fingers gently coming up to touch her assaulted lips. "He kissed me. That lech! How dare he?"

He'd been awfully touchy with her, she had to admit; especially when she'd let him cozy up last night in her drunken haze. But this was different. No lewd comment, no waggling eyebrows, no showmanship. It came out of, literally, nowhere.

Autumn stood outside a while longer, still clad only in her jeans and cardigan. The snow began swirling even more wildly around her and her toes were threatening to give in to frostbite. But she couldn't go back in. He could watch her there, and she didn't want him to see her thought process playing out across her face.

She felt disgusted with herself. Yes, it was unwanted and received no consent whatsoever. But it wasn't...bad. She thought for sure he'd have horrible breath, being dead and all. He certainly looked filthy. But all she'd tasted were cigarettes. Whiskey maybe. Was there a hint of damp forest there too...perhaps?

Oh hell! She threw her hands up in exasperation. It didn't matter what that kiss "tasted" like, it was unwanted and therefore awful. Images of more than kissing briefly flashed through her mind and she growled out loud. "Knock it off," she told herself. "What about Craig?"

Craig...she stopped short. She hadn't even called him since stopping up there in Winter River. Granted, it had only been a few days but now she felt really guilty about it. Autumn told herself she'd go in the house and give him a call, to check in and see how he was doing all alone in the city now. Any minute now.

Who was she kidding? Craig was a great guy really, but she also knew that on some very important subconscious level that he didn't understand her. He admired her writing and pushed her to keep at it, so he was a great motivator. But he just didn't get _her._ Craig wanted marriage and kids, the family package. He wanted to settle down eventually and do the whole "normal" thing.

And that, just wasn't her. Autumn didn't care much for those things, she'd always considered herself a free spirit. Besides, she was only twenty-four and in no position to want to settle down. She was young and had a lot of living to do.

If she was perfectly honest with herself, she was relieved to get away from him for a while. The cuddling and date nights were great, for sure. But she valued her freedom and personal space too much to really give Craig the attention she knew he wanted and probably deserved.

And then there was..._him_. He was something new, intoxicating, exotic, and fresh. Maybe exactly what she needed, not just as a muse. But as a confidante or friend, even. Sure, he was crude, perverted, snarky, and arrogant to a fault. But he didn't seem nearly as bad as Lydia had made him out to be.

Lydia. Oh, well that complicated matters, didn't it? How would her crazy cousin handle all of this? It certainly wasn't something she could just casually bring up the next time Lyds called her. "Oh hey, so your former fiance totally kissed me today. You're cool with that, right?" No, not happening.

A small part of Autumn wondered if Lydia didn't hold some remnant of feeling for the poltergeist. She'd certainly talked about him often enough in Autumn's youth. And it was never with complete vehemence, there had definitely been a wistfulness there in her voice. Autumn had just been too young to notice it back then.

A small smile tugged at her lips. Well, if she was looking for a good story, she'd definitely found it.

* * *

The diner was strangely empty when Autumn set foot inside, shutting the swirling white flakes out behind her. She took a seat in her usual booth and waited around for Susan. It took a few moments before the woman shuffled out of the kitchen, looking anxious.

"Good morning, dear," she greeted amiably, but something was definitely on her mind.

"Good morning, Susan," Autumn greeted in return. "Are you alright? You look kind of upset."

"We had a crazy night in here," she admitted. "I'm not even sure I saw what I think I saw."

Autumn's eyes narrowed in suspicion, she hadn't even thought about what Betelgeuse might have gotten up to while she'd passed out on the couch. "So what did you see?"

Susan sighed and leaned in conspiratorially, "Some strange man came in here last night and spooked those rowdy teenagers out. At least, I think he was a man. I've never seen anything like it."

Now she was sure. Betelgeuse had invaded her sanctuary and he was going to pay. But Susan was still talking and so she tuned back in.

"But in the end, he paid for his coffee and the mess the kids left behind. Whatever he was, he sure saved me the trouble of having to chase them out myself. I wasn't looking forward to it."

"That's definitely odd," Autumn nodded in agreement. "But I don't want to think any more on it until I've had some coffee and a danish."

Susan grinned. "Coming right up, dear. I must say, you're becoming quite the regular in here."

That comment warmed Autumn all the way to her toes. "I suppose so." She leaned back in her booth and watched the snow whirl madly outside. The wind had picked up on her way into town and now it was blowing with a ferocity to match a hurricane. Still, Autumn didn't mind venturing out into it, winter was her favorite time of year. A quiet time for stillness and reflection, for thought. And as a harried writer, nothing could be appreciated more.

And, unfortunately for her, that quiet did not last long.

"Well, hello! Fancy seeing you in here!"

She didn't even have to look up to know who it was that had invaded on her peaceful moment. Nonetheless, she looked up with a smile plastered to her face.

"Ms. Butterfield," she gritted. "How nice to see you again."

The perky woman slid into the booth across from Autumn and signaled for Susan, who was approaching with Autumn's coffee. "I was hoping to run into you again, actually. How is the writing?"

"It's going fine," she responded noncommittally. "And how are you?"

"Just dandy, dear," Karen smiled. "Have you talked to your uncle yet?"

"Why?"

The real estate agent's eyes became guarded suddenly. "Oh, I was just wondering if perhaps he mentioned anything about the house."

Autumn took on an equally guarded expression. "No, he merely called to see if I was enjoying the peace and quiet. Which I was."

Karen smiled more brightly again. "Of course. Winter River is a very peaceful place, especially for families."

"I suppose it is," Autumn hedged, taking a sip of her coffee and deciding it needed more cream. She tinkered with the dish of cream before casually selecting one and pouring it into her off-white coffee mug. She watched the white liquid swirl around the black java and gradually fade into an unappetizing brown color.

"Do you have a man staying with you?" Karen asked suddenly. Autumn looked up sharply, and stopped stirring her coffee. Instead she deliberately picked up her blueberry danish and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

"Not that it matters if I do, but no," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

Karen averted her eyes for a moment and lowered her voice. "Oh it was just that someone saw a bizarre looking man heading up your way early this morning. If he's not with you, perhaps you should alert the police and have them keep an eye out. It won't do to have any unsavory types meandering around town at night."

"I agree with you completely," Autumn deadpanned. "I'll keep my eyes open and if I happen to spot this weirdo I'll sound the alarm."

Karen's relief was comically palpable. "Good. I wouldn't want some pervert taking advantage of you, either, being new to town."

"Of course not." Autumn shoved the last bite of her danish into her mouth and washed it down with her now cold coffee. She dug around in her purse for some cash and set it on the table. "Your coffee's on me, but I really need to be going. I'm expecting a phone call sometime today."

"Oh, of course dear!" the real estate agent chirped. "Have a wonderful day."

"Likewise," Autumn mumbled as she buttoned up her coat and pushed her way out the diner. The wind was still furiously howling and she had to push long strands of hair out of her face to see where she was going. The cold bit at her cheeks and ears, but she pressed on.

This kind of cold was far more tolerable than having breakfast with that obnoxious woman.

* * *

The phone was ringing when she finally got through the front door, huffing from her jaunt up the hill and trying to rub some feeling back into her frozen ears. She kicked her boots off and made straight for the cell sitting on the couch.

"Hello?"

When ensued was an hour long conversation with her agent who wasn't entirely keen on her new story approach. Hasn't it been done before? He'd argued. Nobody wanted to read about small town waitresses unless there was some kind of murder or mystery involved. And even that was a tired cliché.

She'd argued back just as vehemently that this was something different and she was taking a supernatural approach in her novel. And no, it wasn't vampires, sorcerers, or werewolves. He'd just have to wait and read the sample chapters once she got them sorted out.

After that dramatic conversation and her harrowing encounter with the real estate agent from sunny-side hell, Autumn collapsed onto the couch and let out a sigh. Now, where was the _current_ bane of her existence...?

_Babes?_

Ah, there he was.

"Shut up, I don't want to talk to you right now."

_Come on, let me out. I'll even apologize._

"Really?"

He was quiet. Gotcha. But she knew she'd give in, just to not have to sit in the house all by herself again and watch old black and white movies until the wee hours of the morning. She the name slipped past her lips in a trio and he zapped himself onto the chair next to the couch.

"Rough day," the smirk playing around his lips made her want to hit him. Again. "What d'you say we get hammered again?" And with that he pulled a bottle of cheap wine out of thin air.

"And have a repeat performance of last night?" she snapped. "No thank you."

He scowled. "You're too uptight, you know that? 'No Distractions'...what a load."

She sat up and glared at him. "I came up here to work. Not fraternize with my cousin's spectral enemy, not fend off crazy gingers, and certainly not to hear about some Stephen King shit going down at my one and only sanctuary in this hellhole!"

He looked a bit taken aback. "So you heard about that, huh?"

"It's a small town, fool. People talk."

"Touche."

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. "I'm trying so hard these days but I can't even bring myself to sit down and write something worthy of a printing press. I'm off my game, you know? And despite it all, you're really not helping matters."

"And here I thought I was an exceptional muse!" He puffed his chest out and smoothed down his jacket, tossing her a grin. But she was still moping.

She didn't see him advancing until it was too late and his shadow engulfed her. She looked up in time for him to slam her into the back of the couch. "I'll give ya something to write about," he leered down at her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Autumn could only watch in some sort of sick fascination as he leaned down and his cool breath fanned across her face.

Cigarettes. Booze. Decaying leaves. She hadn't been imagining that earlier, had she?

He was going to kiss her again. They both knew it and for some reason she didn't feel like stopping it. Was it that curiosity thing rearing it's ugly head again? Was it the thrill of new and exciting territory about to be crossed? It certainly wasn't just about the story...

In the end, neither of them would find out. The front door crashed open and a joking voice called out, "I'm home!" Both of them froze and turned their heads to the foyer, where a bewildered looking Lydia stood, duffel bag in hand.

It took her all of three seconds to sum up the situation and scream Betelgeuse's name at the top of her lungs three times fast. He popped out of the room with an audible snarl just in time for Craig to bumbled in behind Lydia with a puzzled expression.

Autumn pulled herself together with amazing haste. She stood and smoothed out her cardigan, plastering a cheesy grin on her face.

"Hi!"


	7. Chapter 7

**The Only Exception**

_"Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed." -Michael Pritchard_

"Hi!" she chirped cheerfully at her unexpected guests. With a wide smile, she moved to stand in front of them. Lydia had fixed her with a dark look and Craig, in all his shaggy haired awkwardness, could only look helplessly between the two.

"Am I missing something?" he asked cautiously.

Lydia turned to him and flashed him a tight smile. "I think we caught Autumn a little off guard showing up so unexpectedly. I'm gonna go stake out my parent's old bedroom and leave you two alone to catch up." And with that she hefted up her small duffel and strode purposefully towards the staircase. Autumn and Craig were left alone near the front door.

"I'm sorry if showing up like this upsets you," he grinned sheepishly. "But Lydia called me and said she was going to visit you. I couldn't resist tagging along. I missed you."

Something inside Autumn clenched painfully at his admission. In all her thinking this morning, she'd come to the decision that her relationship with Craig had all but come to an end. Though at the moment, she just didn't have the heart to tell him that. So instead she stepped forward to wrap her arms around him.

Craig was a slender guy and fairly tall. He was almost consistently wearing slim fitting jeans and a band t-shirt of some type. Today's selection was a black Grateful Dead shirt with a blue plaid shirt layered on top. A beanie slouched lazily on top of his unruly mop of brown hair. For a guy his age and into the alternative scene, he was the epitome of gorgeous. Deep blue eyes drew one in and a quirky, lopsided smile completed the ensemble.

But Autumn found herself wanting to see green eyes instead of blue.

Craig gave her a quick peck on the cheek before hoisting up his own bag. "So, where are we crashing, babe?"

Babe. Oh gods, that sounded so wrong coming from anyone but _him_. Speaking of...what was he up to now? She didn't feel any eyes lingering on her and he was blessedly silent wherever he was. She had a sinking feeling Lydia was going to run into him before she did that night.

"Upstairs," she forced herself to answer. "I'm staying in Lydia's old room, actually. Follow me."

* * *

After dumping her bag in her new "room", Lydia made a beeline for the attic. She could think of no other place he'd retreat to and she also knew that he'd be waiting for her. She wasn't disappointed. A quick glance around the model town revealed him seated comfortably on a pair of gravestones in his signature striped suit. The tableau struck her dumb – it was almost exactly the same image she remembered of him that last time they met. She was a naïve and morbid teenager back then, desperate to save the only people she really considered family and so she had rashly struck a deal with this crazy poltergeist.

The same poltergeist that sat looking up at her more perturbed than amused. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Lyds?"

"Stay away from my cousin!" was the first thing that blurted out of her mouth. It wasn't eloquent or insightful, nor was it any of the things she'd wanted to say to him over the years. But it was a valid threat.

Betelgeuse shifted a bit and glared up at her. "And why should I listen to you? Even if you're threatening me, we both know you're not exactly the type of person to follow though, if you know what I mean?"

Lydia scowled. "I was a kid back then, okay? And you're a pervert! Of course I wasn't going go to go through with it. Even though you did save the Maitlands..."

"Not all bad then, am I?"

Lydia remained quiet, letting her eyes roam around the dusty attic. Everything was exactly as they left it, even the original handbook was still sitting on the sheet covered couch. She blinked back tears suddenly, in that moment she realized just how much she had missed the two ghosts that were more of a family to her than her legal parents had ever been.

And now they were gone.

Which lead to her next point. "Why are you still here, anyways?"

"M'stuck, Lyds," he told her honestly. "And I only get out when someone says the magic B words, you know that."

"You're stuck in this house?" she asked skeptically.

"Well yeah," he drawled. "When I'm not stuck on the otherside. Seems I can only poke around inside the house when I get bored. And I'm telling ya, Lyds, I've been pretty bored."

She stepped closer. "Except when you're terrorizing my little cousin."

A lecherous grin stretched across the poltergeist's face. "Actually, she's been doing all the terrorizing, if you get my drift."

Lydia snarled. "She's a good girl and she's had it rough for a while. The last thing she needs is to get mixed up with someone...something like you!"

Betelgeuse furrowed his unruly brows at her. "What are you, her mom or something?"

"I might as well have been..." she trailed off suddenly. Her eyes lowered and for a moment Lydia found herself lost in a sea of past memories, some of them lovely and some of them heartbreaking. After a moment, she pulled herself together and took a good, long look at Betelgeuse.

"You haven't changed at all," she murmured.

"I'm dead," was his rejoinder. "You don't really change much after that. But you sure look different. What are you, like, pushing sixty now?"

"Thirty-nine," she grinned. "It's been a while, Juice. I'd say it's good to see you but..."

Betelgeuse relaxed his posture then and grinned back at her. "Yeah yeah, we're square and all that, but we ain't friends."

"Something like that..."

* * *

Alone in the bedroom with Craig was the last place she wanted to be. Standing out in the cold with bare feet and a cigarette sounded much more appealing. Instead she was gingerly perched on the edge of the bed next to him, watching warily as he let himself fall back on the mattress. He let out a contented sigh.

"I missed you, you know?" he said. "The city's just not the same. And everyone's been asking about you."

"Yeah?" she responded numbly. Everyone meant their little crowd of friends. Jay, Ashley, and Brook – they had all met in college at one point and sort of stuck together. A strange little family. Before Autumn had spirited herself away to the old Deetz house, gathering at the local dive bar for open mic nights had sort of been a regular thing. Craig had been hassling her to take part in a poetry reading for months, despite her insistence that poems just weren't her thing.

Chalk that up to another case of not listening to her.

But she had to derail that thought, since Craig had started speaking again. "Ashley's sick of being the only girl in the group these days. I suppose she's homesick for all that girly talk in the bathrooms, huh?"

He meant it as a joke, but it only served to fuel her ire. "What do you take us for, valley girls or something? You know we don't do that kind of stupid shit..."

Craig sat up, a frown etched on his pale face. "Look, that's not what I meant. Why are you so pissed off right now?"

Autumn closed her eyes and let out a long, tense breath. Then she dropped her head into her hands. "I don't know. I had a long day...there's this real estate agent bitch who keeps bugging me about the house and I had an argument with my agent...things have just been peachy."

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I didn't know. Do you just wanna get some rest? I'm sure Lydia's probably hungry so we'll go grab food okay?"

She didn't lift up her head to nod. "Okay. Thank you. Rest is probably exactly what I need right now."

Craig kissed the top of her head and quietly left the room. Once the door had shut behind him, she flopped down onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. The speckled gray above her swirled together towards the middle where it met up with the light fixture and all in all, Autumn found it to be oddly hypnotic. "Whoever designed this room had sleep in mind, that's for sure..."

_Checking out already?_

"Are you finished being scolded?" she shot back, wearily.

_What are you talking about?_

She rolled onto her side, long locks of hair fanning out across the mattress. A yawn was stifled before she answered. "I knew she'd find you and rip you a new one. So how'd it go?"

_I think she still wants me._

"Ha!"

There was a long pause and then a hesitant _So that's you're boyfriend, huh?_

Autumn opened her eyes and let out another pitiful sigh. "Yes. No. I don't know...it's pretty complicated now. And I think he's the only one that doesn't know it. Ignorance is bliss, hmm?"

_That's what they say._ Betelgeuse had taken on the form of a striped snake on his way to her room and now he was casually wrapped around one of the bed's legs, carefully hidden from view. Her last encounter with snakes hadn't gone so well but he had to urge to remain corporeal in some sense while talking to her.

"I know I should end it. I've known it for a while too..." she sat up then, brushing hair out of her face and rubbing at her tired eyes. "This weekend is going to be horrible, but once it's over I'll break it off for good."

The poltergeist inwardly cringed. He couldn't believe he was having this kind of conversation. Why was she confiding in him, anyways? Betelgeuse didn't realize he'd said that last part out loud until she answered.

"That's a good question," she mused. "Probably because you're the only one that actually listens these days. How pathetic is that, that I'm spilling all my girly issues to a dead guy?"

_Wanna say the magic words, babe?_

She shook her head before standing up. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea. If it was just Lydia...I could probably swing it. You'll have to wait, I'm afraid."

_Where you going?_

"To get my laptop," she informed him. "The story's really unfolding now. Funny, it's only good when you're not the main character..."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Only Exception**

_"I've developed a new philosophy... I only dread one day at a time." -Charlie Brown _

She sat up until the wee hours of the morning on her typing contraption, furiously clacking away at the keys. She would write paragraphs at a time and the delete them, only to start anew. He watched her from a distance; Betelgeuse was just a bit too scared to read any of it.

Autumn stood up and yawned at around three in the morning, then turned around to face the kitchen window. "Bugger off," she said sagely towards the murky image of the creature in the glass. With a scowl, he vanished.

The story was coming along rather brilliantly, she had to admit. It was such a shame that the people around her had ended up as more prominent cast members than she'd originally intended. Still, she thought to herself as she sat back down and opened up her email, if her agent didn't fall in love with this, he was fired.

After uploading those few new chapters and sending them off with the rest of the completed work, Autumn decided a nap was in order. The sun would be poking up over the horizon in just a few scant hours and she would rest until then.

The couch was much more inviting than heading upstairs to crawl into bed with her almost ex-boyfriend, so she grabbed her old fuzzy afghan and settled in there. Within minutes, sleep had claimed her.

She dreamed of a wrinkled old woman surrounded by a cloud of smoke. The woman was shaking a cigarette in her general direction and Autumn watched transfixed as ash from the tip broke away and fell into the ether. It was a warning, she could tell. This woman was warning her about something but she couldn't make out the words.

However, the girl was absolutely certain she caught Betelgeuse's name tucked away within it.

* * *

"Autumn!" A hand reached out and shook her shoulder gently. "Autumn, wake up."

"Dafuqtimesit?" she mumbled into the armrest of the cushy sofa. After a moment, she pushed herself into a sitting position and promptly sneezed. "Ugh, lovely."

Craig was standing over her, looking concerned. "It's almost noon, hun. You should get up. How late were you writing?"

After trying to brush the sleep from her eyes and failing, she answered him. "Not sure, it was probably close to four, I think." And then she sneezed again.

"You sound sick," he observed. "That's what happens when you don't get much sleep. Have you been eating well?"

Autumn stood and headed for her bedroom. She needed a fresh change of clothes. A shower wouldn't hurt either and then a late breakfast.

"Does regular takeout count?" she asked over her shoulder. Craig was right behind her.

"No way." He shook his head. "All that greasy stuff can't be good for anybody."

She could name at least one person she knew that it wouldn't hurt. And again, he didn't seem to be present. She vaguely remembered dismissing him last night though...perchance he was still miffed? Oh well, that was his problem.

Once in her room, she dug around in the dresser for a long black skirt and a cozy sweater. If she was sick, she was going to be comfortable, dammit! With that in hand, she stalked into the bathroom and shut the door on her puppy dog boyfriend.

After a few moments of stunned silence, she heard him saunter away. Releasing a long breath, the business of showering was then taken care of. The hot steam from the water opened her nasal passages and suddenly she could breathe again. Autumn hated getting sick, and not just for the all the obvious reasons. When she was sick and her head was all stuffed up it became impossible to think in a linear fashion. Hence, writing became an even bigger chore.

Stepping out of the shower brought the realization that she still hadn't replaced the bathroom mirror. Instead, it was just the old wallpaper staring back at her. Strange how nobody had said anything about it yet. Certainly, either Lydia or Craig would have noticed and mentioned it to her. The glass shards had been cleaned up much earlier in the week, but now she would have to buy a new mirror to hang up...

Oh the options.

She toweled off and after pulling on her clothing of choice, stepped outside of the bathroom. Lydia was lounging there, waiting.

"Good morning," she grinned awkwardly at her older cousin. Lydia didn't smile back, just eased around her and into the bathroom. The door shut quietly. "Oh, this is excellent."

The boyfriend clearly knew something was up and now her cousin was treating her like public enemy number one. Her only confidante was off still brooding somewhere. Down in the kitchen she fixed herself a cup of herbal tea and powered up the laptop.

An email from her agent was waiting for her.

**"You've got an intriguing concept here and so far, I like what I'm reading. Keep it up, I can't wait to see more.**

**Dan Stevens"**

The tea was warming her chilled insides, the kind words from her usually brusque agent were making smile, and her nose had stopped itching for the moment. Naturally, this would be the perfect moment for things to take a turn for the worst.

A couple of plates launched themselves from the cupboard and smashed into the refrigerator just as Craig came in through the front door, baring a few bags of food. "What the hell was that?"

Autumn sunk lower in her chair and rubbed at her forehead. A migraine was springing up for sure. Betelgeuse seemed more than a bit miffed. And now Craig was going to tweak out – he had just arrived in the kitchen, looking from her to the shattered porcelain on the floor. She could only give me a half-assed grin.

"Why did you break those plates?" he raised his eyebrows. There was no telling him that she didn't, if there was one thing Craig was 'no nonsense' about, it was the supernatural. He would never believe her if she told him a poltergeist did it.

"I don't know," she shrugged. He stared her down a few moments more before pulling the contents of the bag out and setting them before her. A caesar salad and a vegetable panini. With that came a bottle of vitamin-fortified water.

"Here, you need to eat something healthy if you're going to get better."

"Thanks," she mumbled and dug into the sandwich that was severely lacking in meat substances. The grilled eggplant and soggy zucchini nearly made her gag. She managed to choke it down in between sips of water and then tackled the limp looking salad.

Craig had been sitting across from her the whole time. "How is the writing going?"

That question again? Autumn sat back in her chair, her lower back protesting from a few solid days of bad posture. "Pretty hit and miss," she admitted. "I've had these random bouts of inspirations and when they're around I write furiously."

"Didn't that writing class tell you to write all the time, whether you were inspired or not?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But that doesn't work for me. Besides, I think that instructor was full of it."

"He's a published author," Craig pointed out. What was his point, so was she! Suddenly, Autumn wanted nothing more than to get up and leave the house. She had to get away – all the noise around her and in her head was making her feel crazy.

She stood up and made for the door. Craig was out of his chair in seconds, demanding to know where she was going. "Out for a bit," she told him exasperatedly. "I need some air and some room to think. This place is way too crowded."

After watching her bundle up and trot out the door, Craig sat back down at the table in the kitchen. Lydia joined him moments later.

"Why do you do that?" she asked him.

"What?" he looked up, startled.

Lydia took the seat where Autumn had been and fixed him with her dark eyes. She brushed a lock of black hair over her shoulder. "Always tell her what to do or how to do it? She's an adult, you know?"

Craig reared back. "I don't do that. She just needs a little push sometimes." He closed his eyes and thought back to their time together in the city. She was always a little scatterbrained, always late for things, buried in books, or forgetting to call people back. Sometimes she would cancel on plans they'd made. Autumn would get kind of antsy and detached when they were together too, she needed him around to keep her grounded.

He knew, in his heart, that he could help her settle down at some point.

Lydia was gazing absently at the wall when she spoke next. "She's had it pretty rough, you know. I'm sure she doesn't talk about her childhood much, does she?"

Now that he thought about it, no. Autumn never talked about being a kid, about her family, or about living in New York City. He'd met her in university after he'd transferred from Michigan to Connecticut, and she'd been secretive even back then.

"She was so happy and adorable in the beginning. That was back when Michael and Olivia were still together. Before Olivia..." she trailed off. "Maybe I shouldn't be talking about this. Not in this house anyways."

* * *

It was cold on the bridge and her nose was running again. Still, she sat on the cold ground and her let feet dangle out over the frozen water. The river was deep here and Autumn knew that the water was still flowing beneath a few inches of ice. Anything that plunged through would be taken away with the current.

For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined herself beneath all that ice. Suspended in icy fluid, she could only hear the rushing in her ears and feel the prick against her skin of a thousand tiny knives. The grip of death would carry her away. Away from all the trouble back up at the house, away from all the stress of writing, away from her past and her very own demented mind.

When she opened her eyes, a few drops slid down her cheeks. She tried desperately to convince herself it was just the wind making her eyes tear up. "No, I think I'm done with denial."

And in the spirit of not denying things, she was able to admit finally that she was, indeed, developing some very bizarre feelings for a dead guy. A dead guy that was longing to sit down and have a conversation with.

His name left her lips on a breathy sigh, carried away with the harsh wind. And just like the wind, he was there, lounging next to her.

"Bit chilly out here, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I don't mind. Are you still pissed at me?"

He blinked stupidly. "Heh, I thought you were mad at me. Too bad about those ugly plates, right?"

She didn't look at him, but there was a small grin playing about her lips. "I have a question for you. And I'd really like an honest answer, if you can."

Oh boy, he had a feeling he wasn't going like this much. Honesty wasn't really his strong suit, but he could do it if helped his cause. "Sure, babes. Shoot."

"What is it like to die?"

* * *

Okay, guys. I'm really sorry. I know it's been an epic long time since I've updated and frankly, I've been so busy with school and personal issues that I just haven't felt up to working on anything for leisure. Especially this. But seeing as we're about to start digging into the heart of Autumn's past I might be able to use some of my own 'f'ed-up-ness' to my advantage. Expect more frequent updates in the future and until then I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Okay, I'll be honest. There's no reason for not keeping up with this story other than sheer lack of interest. Some of you may have seen my new Edward Scissorhands fic, but that might be on hold until I get this one sorted. I'm FINALLY finished with school and I'm free for the summer so I will make a concerted effort to write more and hopefully wrap this story up. Anyway, shit's getting real - so read on peeps!~_**

* * *

**The Only Exception**

_There are worse things in life than death. Have you ever spent an evening with an insurance salesman? Woody Allen_

He honestly wasn't sure if he could still feel the cold of winter until it hit him like a sledge hammer to the chest. Of all questions to ask, it had to be that one, huh? After six centuries he wasn't sure he wanted to bother recalling any of that. None of it mattered now anyways.

But Autumn was looking up at him expectantly, so he sighed.

"Well babes, it's a bit like being born," he supposed. "Only backwards."

"That doesn't make any sense," she grumbled.

Betelgeuse leaned back a bit and kicked his legs up and down. "Kind of hard to explain it to a breather. But that's about right."

She looked down towards the thinly covered river, pensive. "Does it hurt?"

He fixed her with a hard glare. "You ain't thinking about trying it now, are ya? 'Cause that's the worst way to go – suicide gets ya nothing but trouble."

Sure, she thought. "How much trouble?"

"Well babes," he began his lecture. "Suicide lands you with a civil servant position. Ya know, pushing paperwork around and getting yelled at a lot. You think you got it rough now, try working for Juno."

That name sounded familiar to her. Hadn't someone talked about a Juno before? She couldn't quite place it though.

"Who's Juno?"

"Some old hag who fancies herself a case worker. Personally, babes, I think she exists to make my life a living hell."

"...but you're dead."

The look he gave her then sent her into a fit of giggles. She couldn't help it. The idea of Betelgeuse being harassed by some little old lady was enough to crack her up and shine some light onto her rather dismal mood.

Betelgeuse grinned. "So why the long face, then?"

Autumn stifled her amusement and crossed her legs. The cold wind no longer felt like such an issue anymore. She suspected that maybe she was going numb, but couldn't be bothered to care. There was no way in hell she'd go back to the house yet. A childish part of her wanted Craig and Lydia to worry about her and come looking. The logical side insisted that would be a VERY BAD idea.

"Lydia's pissed," she told him. "Craig...I just can't be around him anymore without wanting to break something. Not plates either."

"Trouble in paradise," he nodded as though he understood. "I understand. Well, here's what I'll do for ya. I'll scare him so bad he won't ever come back to the house. He can go running back to the big city and you can stay here!"

"That resolves nothing though..." she murmured. "I have to break it off. I'm just...worried he won't take it well. I'm not scare of him, per se, but..."

Betelgeuse looked at her then. Really looked at her. She was a lovely creature. She was smart and driven, with her own interests and passions. Poor Autumn didn't deserve this shit. And here he was, feeling uncharacteristically sorry for her. What a sap he was becoming!

"He ain't right for ya," he said quietly. She nodded.

"He's had such a privileged life," she said, almost angrily. "Nothing horrible ever happened to him growing up, so it's really impossible for him to understand me at all. And if I tried to tell him, I know I'd only get sympathy and that's the last thing I need to deal with."

"So what happened to you?"

Autumn inhaled sharply. That was too much to let slip. She didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to relive it. That time in her life was a shadow, one that threatened rain on the rest of her life. None of her friends knew about it, and certainly not Craig. She wasn't that "mysterious Goth girl" for no reason.

But maybe finally telling someone (the person she'd ironically chosen as her confidante) could help her heal a little. Someone detached with an objective view. Betelgeuse wouldn't look down on her or feed her any sympathy, she knew that.

"Do you remember how I told you that my mom was a fashion photographer?" she began. He nodded. Yeah, that's who named her...her mom. "Well, when I was in middle school something strange began happening to her. She would have these random spasms, dropping things or twitching. She told us not to worry, so Dad and I shrugged it off. But it only got worse – she complained of joint pain and when her limbs began locking up, we knew something was wrong.

"The doctors said she had Parkinson's disease. There's no cure and the treatments they had her on weren't really working. It just got worse." Autumn wrapped her arms tightly around herself, whether to stave off cold or emotion, Betelgeuse wasn't sure. But she continued on.

"If the physical tremors and spasms weren't bad enough, she started acting strangely. She would laugh at things that weren't funny, forget my name, tell my Dad she didn't know who he was...it was a sudden onset of dementia. We didn't know what to do.

"I loved my mom. I took time off school to help take care of her while Dad was busy with work and I nearly had to redo eighth grade because my scores were so bad. When I was in high school, Dad made the decision to put her in a home, where someone could look after her."

Well, that was intense. Betelgeuse let out a long breath, not that he needed to. "So, how's she doing now?"

Autumn blinked. "She died last year."

* * *

Lydia was perched on the couch in the living room, staring absently at the fire. She'd been there for an hour now, waiting for Autumn to come back. Craig he given up after her scolding and retreated to the bedroom. With the way things were, she didn't see a future for her cousin and this controlling young man.

Earlier she'd almost spilled the beans about her cousin's past. But that was none of her business, if Autumn had wanted Craig to know that stuff she would have talked about it before. Then again, it was always hard for Autumn to talk about her mother.

Lydia had gone to St. Peter's Home for the Disabled with Autumn once, when she was seventeen. Autumn had taken to wearing some of Lydia's old clothing from the 80's – sharing her penchant for black lace and wide brimmed hats. But Olivia didn't share that interest at all.

She'd taken one look at Autumn (not that she could remember she had a daughter to begin with) and began screaming obscenities. Autumn had been faced with her mother calling her a demon, a witch, a whore, and a whole slew of rotten monikers. The poor girl had recoiled in absolute terror and running sobbing from the room.

That was the last time Lydia ever saw Olivia. It was so hard to watch her once lovely aunt deteriorate into a tangled mess of amnesia and pain. She could only imagine how difficult it was for Autumn, who had been so close with her artsy mother.

Lydia had never really been that close with her birth mom, and so her leaving and Delia's arrival was more of an annoyance than anything else. But as an adult, she'd grown to be quite friendly with her step-mom and the thought of something terrible happening to her made her stomach tighten sickeningly.

She would never, ever want her own children to deal with something like that either. It would break her heart to watch her own children suffering while she deteriorated or slipped into dementia. Idly, she wondered how Olivia felt before she lost herself completely.

* * *

Autumn had taken a chance and brought Betelgeuse with her to Sally's diner. As soon as they'd stepped through the door, Susan had taken a step back. "He's cool," she'd told the waitress. "He's with me."

She didn't relax entirely though and took their order rather stiffly. This time Autumn didn't bother with coffee. She ordered a cup of tea with a slice of lemon. Betelgeuse had seemed a bit ruffled that they didn't serve beer, so he opted for a cheeseburger instead.

"You don't really need to eat, do you?" she'd asked in a low voice.

"Course not!" he grinned. "Don't mean it doesn't taste good though."

"Oh," Autumn clucked. "So you're wasting my money with the excuse that it simply tastes good? Stay classy, B."

The remainder of their "date" in the diner consisted of more witty bantering back and forth. Autumn had looked on in mild disgust while Betelgeuse wolfed down the burger and inhaled the fries. He did offer her some, but she graciously declined, sipping her tea daintily.

They walked slowly back up to the house. For his part, Betelgeuse was a bit nervous for her. She'd unloaded a lot on him today and he was still trying to figure out how to feel about it. Sure, it sucked about her ol' lady, but everyone he knew in his old life was dead too and you didn't see him whining about it.

The biggest hurdle facing her now was how to handle the boy-toy that she needed to toss out. And he had her back the whole way – honestly, he just didn't like the kid. A pretentious little rocker boy, he wasn't good enough for the likes of his writer extraordinaire. Wait, _his_?

But there was no more time to think, they'd already reached the front door. He faded from view and, invisible, watched Autumn straighten her shoulders and march into the house.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Only Exception**

* * *

_Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it. -W. Somerset Maugham _

Lydia was still camped out on the sofa when Autumn slipped back into the house, the cold seeping in behind her. She turned to observe her cousin, taking in the flushed cheeks and the blue lips. "Sit down," she said quietly.

Autumn cautiously moved towards the couch and perched next to Lydia. The older woman tossed a heavy blanket around her shoulders and Autumn nearly retreated into it completely. She hadn't realized how cold she was, but now that feeling was sneaking back into her stiff limbs she began to shiver.

"Where's your friend?" Lydia asked quietly.

"I'm sure he's around," Autumn chattered. She pulled the blanket more firmly around herself. For a brief moment she'd actually forgotten all the stuff back home she'd had to sort out. Just hanging out, like normal people, had been fun. Even though Betelgeuse was far from normal, it had felt like a casual date.

He made her laugh and that was exactly what she'd needed.

"I think you should break up with Craig." Lydia finally said. She got up to toss a few more chunks of wood into the fire and returned to the sofa. She fixed her dark eyes on the young woman. "He reminds me a lot of Rick." Rick had been Lydia's university sweetheart. At first they'd been inseparable. He'd loved Lydia's dark ways, though he didn't share them. But as usual, the moment the novelty wore off, he was trying to change her, coax her into clothing and activities that just didn't suit her. Lydia had cast him out rather quickly after that.

Autumn was taking her sweet time and Lydia feared she'd find herself shipwrecked first.

"I'm going to," she finally replied. "In the morning, I'll sit him down and tell him it's over. Then I need you to get him out of here."

"No problem," Lydia nodded. "I need to get home anyways. I wanted to make sure you'd be alright though, but I don't think I need to worry."

Autumn smiled. "Yes, I'll be fine. Once things quiet down, I'm going to finish my manuscript. And if I get too frustrated, I have the perfect outlet."

Both woman laughed.

From the staircase, Betelgeuse lounged invisible. He'd been eavesdropping, of course. Looks like little Lydia was giving her own personal brand of approval. And he'd practically gloated when Lydia outright supported the dumping of Craig. Seemed like everyone was on the same page except for the sulking brat upstairs.

Speaking of...his green eyes swiveled up the room at the top of the stairs. A wicked smirk lit his molded face and a delicious idea was forming. "Boo," he chuckled to himself.

* * *

A buzzing sound pulled Craig from his sleep and he reached blearily for his phone, which was sitting on Autumn's night stand. "Hello."

"Hello, pretty boy," a crackling voice came through the speaker. "You've been chosen as a contestant for a game show. It's your lucky night, punk!"

Craig sat up straight and growled into the phone. "Who are you, how'd you get this number?"

A maniacal cackle and then. "I'm the ghost with the most, boy. And your number...is up!"

At that, the wall paper began to peel and blood dripped from the walls. Craig dropped the phone in shock as a figure stepped from the blood. A figure with wild blonde hair and sunken eyes. "Who the hell are you?!" he all but screeched.

Betelgeuse smirked. "Welcome boils and ghouls, I'm your host. Tonight's guest is Craig Martin and are we gonna put him through the ringer or what?" Ghostly cheers rang out from the walls, which had given way to stadium style seating. Craig stumbled back from a group of skeletal ladies wearing blonde wigs that tried to grope him.

"Honorable guest!" the poltergeist cried. "If you'd please have a seat..." A massive electric chair appeared behind Craig and he tumbled backwards into it, leather straps immediately securing his wrists and feet. "Now, if you can answer the next five questions correctly, you get to live! And if you don't..." here Betelgeuse stopped and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No," Craig moaned, quivering violently from terror. "No, please. Just let me go. Please, I'll do anything, just let me go!"

"Anything?"

"Yes!"

A chorus of excited laughter rang up from the spectral crowd. "You heard him, folks! He'll do anything to save his hide. Well, boy, what are you willing to give up to save your pulse, huh?"

"What?" the boy's brow furrowed. An image of Autumn flashed in his mind. Could he give her up? Was any of this really even happening? It felt real enough, the leather strips were digging into his skin hard enough to chafe and draw blood.

"How about your girlfriend?" Betelgeuse asked as casually as he could, buffing his ragged nails against the striped jacket. "How about a trade? You go and she takes your place."

"No way!" the kid snarled. "I won't let you take her!"

Almost bored, the poltergeist flicked his wrists and a horde of striped snakes began slithering up the electric chair, wrapping around Craig's limbs and hissing. The boy's body seized up, he'd always been afraid of snakes. "How about now, kid?"

Mutely, Craig shook his head. No, he wouldn't give in. But he couldn't hold back when several pairs of fangs simultaneously punctured his skin, their poison sinking into his blood-stream and leaving a burning trail in it's wake. His head snapped back and he screamed. "Take her. Take her. Please, just stop!"

_Success._

The next time he blinked, Craig found himself sitting on Autumn's bed. The room was dark and there was no sign of ghouls or bleeding walls. The snakes were gone too. Had it all just been a very vivid nightmare? The skin on his wrists and ankles weren't bleeding anymore. And there were no bite marks, he checked his body...wait. With dread, he slowly pulled up the left leg of his jeans.

Two small holes.

"Jesus Christ..." his breath came out in a loud whoosh. His phone buzzed again and he nearly leaped out of his skin. There was a text message and with trembling fingers, Craig opened it.

**We got a trade, kid.**

* * *

The next morning, Autumn found herself waking up on the couch. Again. She seemed to be making a habit of this, she mused to herself. The fire had burned itself out long ago, but the sunlight streaming through the window was enough to warm her. She yawned and stretched, remembering her conversation the night before with Lydia. Yes, today marked the end.

As she sat up, Autumn realized there were voices coming from the kitchen. Frantic voices. Stumbling forward, she made her way to them and stopped bemusedly in the doorway. Craig had his bags packed and he was trying to force the car keys into Lydia's hand. For her part, Lydia was trying to calm down his panicked muttering.

"What's going on?"

They both looked over at her voice. Craig stormed forward and took both her hands in his. "I'm sorry, babe. I can't stay here any longer. There's...something wrong with this house. I have to go."

"What happened?" she gave him a puzzled look. There was a tumble of words about snakes and spooks and electric chairs and then he was grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

"I'll see you when you come back, okay?"

She turned to regard him calmly. "I'm not coming back."

He stopped short, eyes wide. "What?"

"I'm not coming back. I'm going to stay here, Craig."

It took a moment for realization to dawn. "You mean, it's over?"

She nodded. For some reason, she expected to feel guilty or remorseful. At the very least sympathetic. Instead, there was only a peaceful acceptance. this was right.

Lydia, seeing that Craig didn't even have words to express what had just been dumped on him (literally), pulled Autumn into a hug and told her to take care before grabbing Craig by the elbow and steering him out the front door. Autumn stood in the doorway, listening as the car engine revved up and then faded into the distance.

"Well, that was easy." Betelgeuse had materialized behind her and was reclining against the wall.

A rueful smile painted her lips. Autumn turned to look at him, taking in his smug expression. "No thanks to you, I'm sure."

He shrugged. "Hey, I couldn't help myself. The boy was practically asking for it."

She wanted to be angry at him for his antics, but she wasn't. In fact she was in such a good mood all of a sudden, she felt like making them breakfast. "Pancakes or waffles?"

Betelgeuse looked a bit taken aback for a moment, but then he grinned. "Waffles, babes. Of course."


	11. Chapter 11

**The Only Exception**

* * *

_We should not fret for what is past, nor should we be anxious about the future; men of discernment deal only with the present moment. - Chanakya_

* * *

After Lydia and Craig left, they'd fallen into a sort of routine. Well, as routine as you can get sharing space with a poltergeist. Autumn hardly bothered to say his name anymore, except for when he was being particularly annoying. Like he was at the moment.

She'd been seated in front of her laptop for the better part of an hour, pounding away at the keys. Her manuscript seemed to be flying faster than she could keep up with it and the only thing that seemed to trip her up these days was word choice. She'd always been particularly sticky about descriptive terms but this novel could make or break her career and she was determined to get it right.

Betelgeuse, for his part, was lounging on the other side of the table with his feet propped up and chugging beer after beer. This would have been absolutely fine for Autumn if he'd been quiet about it. Instead, the lights would flicker on and off, dishes could dance across the room, and something had started growling from the refrigerator.

It was the sound of crashing ceramic that forced her eyes away from the screen. "Betelgeuse." The word came out tense. He stopped and stared at her, as if daring her to say it again. "Please be quiet," she finally said with a sigh.

"Babes," he complained. "I'm fricken' bored. You sit at that thing day in and day out. A guy like me needs a little attention, if you what I mean?"

"Can you find it somewhere else, then?" she didn't look back up this time.

With an irritated huff, the ghost hoisted himself out of his seat and slunk from the kitchen. Far be it for him to interrupt her sacred writing time. Which had become all the time lately, it seemed. After chasing that pretty boy out, he was convinced he'd be able to seduce her in peace or at least get a rise out of her with his antics. But she'd been ignoring him! How dare she? And after he stuck his neck out for her too...

"Women," he groaned, as he floated up the staircase. He was starting to miss Barbara and Adam. They're been a hoot while they were around, always yelling at him and telling him what to do. Not that he listened, but at least they were paying attention.

And then Juno had come and opened up the big door to the great beyond for 'em and that was it. Gods, he'd been bored then. Kind of like he was bored now.

Predictably, he found himself up in the attic. He'd taken to using this place as brooding ground. Autumn never came up here anyways, probably wasn't much interested in an old attic. Which suited him just fine.

* * *

Autumn had just finished up a rather climactic scene between her waitress and the mysterious stranger when she caught the scent of cigarette smoke. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "Ah, you're back."

"Back?" another voice echoed. And it wasn't Betelgeuse's. Her eyes shot open and she turned around in her chair. An old woman surrounded by a cloud of smoke stood in the doorway, puffing away patiently. "I'm afraid not."

It only took a few seconds for things to click into place. "You're Juno."

The old woman nodded and this time Autumn noticed smoke seeping out of a rather nasty looking gash across Juno's throat. _That must have been a lovely way to go_. "I've been hanging back for a while to see how everything would play out once you made Betelgeuse a permanent fixture in your life."

"You mean," Autumn started, "you've been watching us?"

"Of course!" Juno snapped. "You think I'd just let one of the most dangerous spirits in the afterlife go gallivanting around without supervision?" She paused to take another drag. "It was my idea for Lydia to stop by. I was hoping she'd be able to talk some sense into you and get you out of this house."

"But I'm still here..." Autumn said slowly.

"Yes," Juno fixed her with a glare. "I tried to warn you. But communicating with the living in dreams is so hit and miss you probably didn't hear a word. So I'm here to warn you now."

Autumn stood up and impulsively shivered. The aura around Juno put all her sense on alert. "Warn me about what?"

The older woman sighed. "About _him, _of course. He might be having fun playing house now, but he's bound to get bored sooner or later. And when he does, it won't be good for you."

She knew well and good how dangerous Betelgeuse could be. He'd wreaked havoc on the administration system when he'd been under her care and once out from it he'd done even more damage. Juno was practically drowning in red tape. And now more than ever since he was spending all his time in the living world.

"I don't think he'd hurt me," Autumn said quietly. "I know he's rude, perverted, and has a mean streak to give Hitler a run for his money. But he wouldn't hurt me."

"What about the rest of the town?" Juno pressed. "What around the world, hmm?"

The younger woman faltered for a moment. "He won't."

Juno let out a long-suffering sigh. "And who will take responsibility for him if he does? You?"

"Yes."

* * *

He'd dozed off up there in the attic and miraculously didn't even awaken until Autumn poked him in the shoulder. "Hey," she said. She sounded upset and he became alert immediately.

"What's up?" he grumbled, running a hand over the stubble on his cheek.

She plopped down next to him on the dusty couch and sighed. "I had a visit from Juno."

He wanted to snarl. Nosy bitch. "Yeah, and what'd she want?"

Autumn looked over at Betelgeuse, her face drawn by lines of worry. "She made me responsible for everything you do over on this side..."

"Why?"

"If I didn't agree to those terms, she was going to take you back and make sure you'd never find a way over here again. Jeez, B, what did you do make all these people hate you so much?"

"Aside from bein' charming?" he winked. Autumn rolled her eyes and he internally let out a breath. What had happened back in the day was between him and Juno. Autumn didn't need to know about that stuff. So, she was in charge of him now, eh? He found it a bit ironic that he'd referred to her as his keeper in the past and now it was legitimate.

Not that it mattered, nobody could put a leash on him! He was a free spirit, the ghost with the most, the-

"Try not to get me in trouble, okay?" she was saying, a wry grin spreading across her face. As if he could do anything else. And they both knew it.

* * *

**Hey...this chapter's kind of short and I'm not too happy with it. But I'm trying to wrap this story up soon and I think I know where I want it to go so just hang tight, okay? There's a few more loose ends and then these two can hang out in Winter River and terrorize each other to their heart's content. Laterz!**


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